Odd Part I
by PicnicAtHangingRockGirl
Summary: When Oliver Wood, Marcus Flunt, and Percy Weasley met on the Hogwarts express they became friends. During their seventh year at Hogwarts all of them are forced to acknowledge the fact they still all want to be friends
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter material doesn't belong to me, but Brian Moore is my idea.**

(A/N: I'm working on a sequel to this that will be called "Odd Part II")

_**Percy**_

"What is odd?"

I found my self reading aloud in English class; ruing the fact Hogwarts even had an English class,

"What exactly makes something odd?

There's different ways of saying it

Abnormal, Strange, Unusual, Peculiar, Erratic

This word has many synonyms

Is that odd?

Is the woman with a bald head odd?

Is the man with holes in his trousers odd?

Or are they merely misfortunate?

Does that make them odd?

Who gets to decide if it does?

I saw a boy today

being ridiculed by another boy

I've been observing them for years

Is that odd?

Or is it odd

that through all there squabbles and physical spats

they look alike, sound alike and share another key fact?"

A shaky feeling washed over me--I half-wondered if I was shaking--but the trembling of my hands as they held my notebook (nearly loosing it) was enough to confirm I was. My mouth started tasting like blood; I half wondered if my mouth was bleeding when I knew it wasn't. I felt like an idiot, but not only because of my fears. I felt highly sure if I kept reading I would attract someone's (maybe even more than one person's) rage. Also, I knew I my poem could possibly bring about trouble for people.

"Through similar dark eyes, matched with similar dark hair,

they reveal the same kind of sensitivity and fear

You might think they look like brothers

I think they look like they could be friends

Is that odd?

Or is it ironic?

Maybe the two words are the same?

But no two people are alike

Differences can be hard to find,

like the differences of snow flakes

People can look alike and act alike,

but even people who have siblings with the same faces

don't always share the same personality traits

People call each other odd for personal differences

but if we are all different from each other,

does that make us all very odd?

Is it odd to call someone else that

or think that they are?

Is it odd for me to question something like that?

What is odd?"

I looked up from my notebook and into the eyes of my class mates. It amazes me that from first year to seventh year all those eyes still frighten me into feeling like a helpless little boy, with their judgmental gaze. I could still feel myself shaking and it was growing far worse as I continued to stare silently at my class mates. My eyes fell to the side row in the back of the room to my left where my friend Oliver Wood sat, his eyes held no judgment but instead showed that in his soul he felt sorry for me and wanted to help me. I offered him a small, so as to not attract a great deal attention, smile in my gratitude to him. His eyes blinked, his face faded into the same kind of smile. My eyes pulled away from him, scanning the class again; my classmates were supposed to be asking me questions, but they chose to remain silent as did Professor Moore. Oliver, although he wanted to help me, stayed silent with them; he was probably too afraid to go against them.

_Once in our second year, I believe it was, I was helping him to practice avoiding bludgers for Quidditch (he never did learn) and when he got on his broom he told me, "I don't like people laughing at me_...._" he had this kind of pained expression set on his face, like he didn't want to continue telling me what was wrong._

_I had gripped his upper arm to console him; he looked to me with sadly frightened eyes. You can always see what his true emotions are in his eyes; usually there are traces of fear in his eyes, but they also hold a constant look of sensitivity. Not in a feminine way, but in a way that shows him to have a good soul. _

"_What's wrong?" I had asked._

_He admitted, acting as though he struggled to breathe, "When I'm scared, really scared, like I am on the Quidditch field I feel like everyone's choking me with there judgment_...._and there laughter." Oliver looked desperate, "I don't like it, Percy," his eyes had dropped, "I don't like it at all."_

"_You don't want to be laughed at?" I had asked._

"_I need to play well out there." he had said firmly. "I need to look like I know what I'm doing."_

"_Who are you trying to impress?" I heard myself ask; I was theorizing something about that, but I was still unsure about it._

_He looked up, "No one," he tried again, "everyone."_

"_Someone," I had told him knowingly from behind my glasses._

"_Lets practice." he said, rising up into the air._

_Without much of a choice I opened the trunk we had brought with us and released the bludgers into the air. I watched him block a few easy ones, but then I let my eyes slip away. My thoughts took me to other ideas that I needed time to mull over._

_After a short time I looked up, both our eyes widened in alarm as a fast bludger headed toward him; but our fear was short lived because the bludger took an unexplained turn away from him and circled around the goal posts to get farther away and then came hurling back. Only this time it was alright because Oliver was prepared for it and sent it soaring from the goal._

_He gave a hearty, "Yeah!"_

_I cheered with him, clapping my hands. Then, I saw a green figure out of the corner of my eye; I looked over at the gate, which allowed the players in to see Marcus Flint standing there. An odd thought crossed my mind, 'Was it him?'_

_Marcus had been gazing up at Oliver, but then he let his eyes fall on me. We stood there a moment, locking eyes in silence. It's ironic that with all the questions I had for him, I never said a word. He slipped away, taking my chance with him._

_I looked away from the gate and then an unsettling feeling of being watched came upon me and I looked in back of me, up at where students sat for games. All of those places should have been empty; except that Mr. Filch (holding his cat) and Professor Snape were up there watching me. Despite the fear they gave most students, I didn't feel any of it in that moment; realizing that there were now two, as Mr. Filch is a squib, suspects in what had occurred, both as unlikely as the next. The men looked at me with these puzzled gazes that also gave the impression that they knew something I didn't; I realized then that they knew who had helped Oliver. But would they tell me? I never had a chance to find out because Mrs. Norris jumped from Mr. Filch's hands and they left the seats to go after her. I turned to look back at Oliver, feeling both confused and thoughtful._

_I've never told anyone about that day._

Back in my English class, I still waited for someone, _anyone_, to ask a question and break the unbearable silence. I struggled to breathe because I didn't want the class to here me breathing heavy, I tried to hold my breath and it felt like I was suffocating. My eyes scanned over to the other side of the room where the Slytherins sat together; classes have always been divided like this when Slytherins are involved, and my eyes settled on Marcus Flint.

What I saw in his eyes was enough to make my trembling increase so much that I dropped my book and my body crashed to the floor as I faded out. The last things I heard were my classmates standing up and rushing over to me, while their voices called out my name. But I succumbed to my low blood sugar and the liberating darkness that took me away from what I had seen in Marcus Flint's dark brown eyes.


	2. Marcus

_**Marcus**_

I pushed my food around my plate; I thought of not eating it, but there was a Quidditch match after lunch and it was never wise to play on an empty stomach. I learned that the hard way. In my second year I was so nervous before my first game that I didn't eat and my empty stomach made it hard for me to focus in the game. James Audrey, the current Slytherin captain at the time, gave me such a beating for my bad playing after that match. I don't know what I would have done if Professor Snape hadn't rushed in and stopped him.

Most people don't think well of Professor Snape, they think he's a Death Eater and highly involved with Lord Voldemort. I'm a Slytherin; I know who and who is and who isn't involved with that man. I say his name like that, but not with non-Slytherins, because I've met him. He's been in my house, I've shook his hand and talked with him. It's always chilling to see such a heartless killer drinking tea from my mother's good china as if he were enjoying a Sunday brunch.

Professor Snape is not working for Lord Voldemort. He hasn't been for along time. I look up to him for that while others see him as cold and mean. With all the gruesome things he probably saw, (and at such a young age, seventeen I've heard) I can't blame him for being a little withdrawn from people. He's friends with Mr. Filch, a squib, and Lord Voldemort and his followers hate people who aren't "pure-blood" and can't do magic; but most people just forget that. My parents and Lord Voldemort himself have told me they want me to become a Death Eater and kill anyone who threatens the "purity" of the wizard race. My arm is still unmarked; Lord Voldemort said he'll give me my own tattoo when I graduate school. I like how my arm looks unmarked; I would like to keep it that way. I want to be like Professor Snape, I want to be someone from Slytherin who isn't fighting on Lord Voldemort's side; but I want to not join him like Professor Snape once did. Maybe his parents made him do it, like my parents are trying to make me, or maybe he was always a spy for Dumbledore. I _must_ find the courage to be like him.

Despite what I want, I act unkindly to the other houses. I do it for my safety and most of all so that they won't care about me. Most likely I will end up like James Audrey; he left school and joined Lord Voldemort, killing thirteen people in his first week. He was in Azkaban by the end of that same week. My parents took me to visit him. When I saw him, he had not changed. Even with what Azkaban is like, it's the most frightening place I've ever seen, he was just as hard and bitter as ever. Even the prisoners, who've supposedly lost there souls to the Dementors, seem cold and bitter. I've figured out that no one's actually lost there souls to the Dementors, they're just turned into human vegetables. Though not exactly, I still see some personality in them; they're still cold and bitter, I see it in there eyes. I'm sure if they were taken out of Azkaban they would start acting like people again, but they are the life-long prisoners. But most people who come out of Azkaban never actually show remorse for what they've done.

_But I remember that on all those visits I couldn't help but notice a man who always sat silently in his cell like he'd gone mad. I was always locking eyes with him, trying to learn who he was. I was told, by my parents, that he had gone mad and that he hadn't committed any of the crimes he was accused of. They said he'd done something worse, he'd betrayed all "pure-bloods". I loved him for that._

_I felt like I needed to help him. I felt like I actually had a friend, a real friend, when I learned he was a traitor to all "pure bloods". My parents told me he never joined the Death Eaters with his family, he became a hero of mine for that. I thought of him alot and I prayed for him when ever I did. I wanted to talk to him, but my parents never let me out of their sight. _

_Then one day, on the day James was being released, my parents (James's parents were wanted for crimes, so they couldn't come) were taken to talk with the Minister of Magic about James's release. They took James with them. And I was left all alone. I was scared, but I excited. I had a chance to talk to the man who sat silently in his cell._

_I went up to his cell, I studied him. "You're not mad." I decided in a whisper. _

_Our whole conversation was in whispers._

_He looked over at me, his mouth pulled into a smile, "No, I'm not." He asked, the smile fading away, "What's wrong?"_

"_I didn't think you'd still be able to smile." I admitted nervously._

_He looked around his cell, "No, there isn't much to smile about in this place," he looked to me, "but I can still smile when someone gives me a reason for it." He added, looking at me, "You gave me a reason for it."_

_I nodded solemnly. "You're my hero." I told him._

_The man gave me a confused look, "Why?"_

"_You were never a Death Eater." I said._

"_So, you don't want to be one?" he asked, intrigued._

"_No." I said; it felt good to tell someone._

_The man smiled at me, "I like you, kid. Don't take this the wrong way, but I might just love you."_

_I smiled, "I love you as well." He stood up, but he struggled, "You don't have to get up if you're too weak."_

"_I'm fine." he told me. "Just a little out of practice." he added kindly. The man came over to me and said, "I've noticed you," he motioned to James's cell, and I looked over there a moment, "at his cell." I looked back to him, "I never figured you for a Death Eater," he said thoughtfully, "you look to nice a kid for that." He asked, "How did you know I'm not mad?"_

"_You look sane in your eyes." I said._

_He smiled again, "I can see why Voldemort," it didn't surprise me he could use his name, "would want you on his side. You're perceptive."_

"_May I give you something?" I asked._

"_That depends on what it is, the Dementors might want to take it away." he said._

_I took off my silver cross I wore on a little chain around my neck, "What about a cross?"_

_He took it from my hand, studying it, "It's nice. I've wanted one of these. I used to have one just like it, but the Ministry of Magic probably took that from my house when they searched it_......_"_

_I said, "I thought you could use something to remind you of God. He can help you. He can set you free."_

_He stopped a moment, thinking to himself. He looked at me, "Yes he can."_

_I could tell then that he had a plan. We both knew he had a plan, but said nothing._

"_Thank you for the cross." he said. He gripped my hand, "Don't you ever join Voldemort, even if he threatens your life. If he does, you take death. Being killed by him is nothing compared to what Hell is like or what this place is like." He held my hand tighter, "Promise you won't join him."_

"_I promise." I said, meaning to keep it._

_He smiled, "You're a good boy. God bless you--what is your name?"_

"_Marcus Flint." I told him._

"_God bless you, Marcus Flint." he said._

_I held his hand tighter, "God bless you, Sirius Black."_

_We looked at each other a moment and then let go of each others hands. I stepped back from his cell; I took one last look at him, but when I heard the door open down the hall I went back to James's empty cell._

_The next morning, I read in the Daily Prophet that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. As I sat in the kitchen alone, I smiled for him, thanking God for his escape._

Later, I learned he was accused of being an accomplice to the murder of Harry Potter's parents; a crime he never did. Most people think he's coming after Harry Potter; if he is, it isn't to kill him. I know that. Looking over at the Gryffindor table, I can see he looks nervous, but that could be for the Quidditch match. I could tell him Sirius Black won't kill him, but he probably wouldn't believe me. No one in their right mind would believe me. They all hate me, just as well. I want to keep my promise to Sirius, but if I'm not brave enough then why should anyone here half to care for me?

Oliver Wood looks nervous, more so than usual. His friend Percy Weasley hasn't come back from the infirmary. His friend we'll be alright, those Weasleys are always strong….and courageous. I wish I could tell him that. I wish I could comfort him.

But it did concern me when I saw him fall to the ground like that; although, I'm not surprised. He looked nervous when he got up to the front of the room, he shouldn't have had to read his poem to the class. But I think part of him wanted to do it.

"_Through similar dark eyes, matched with similar dark hair,_

_they reveal the same kind of sensitivity and fear"_

I kept my eyes locked on Oliver.

We do look alike.


	3. Oliver

_**Oliver**_

I stuffed a piece of chicken in my mouth; it was good, but not good enough to take away my worrying. I was worried about Percy. I'd never seen him faint like that. He had been shaking so violently, I knew he was going to do something to land himself in the infirmary. I just didn't think he would pass out. He was so nervous, but I think he wanted to read that poem out loud. Still, I felt bad for him as he stood up there. He's told me numerous times that he hates speaking in front of the class. He doesn't like the way they look at him, like their judging him. I don't like it either. And there were Slytherins there to make matters worse.

Madame Pomfrey said he would be all right; but he's my best friend, I can't help but worry about him. I wonder what made him faint. I hope he'll be alright.

I looked up from my plate and immediately locked eyes with Marcus Flint, over at the Slytherin table. He didn't look at me with that same look of bitter hatred that he usually did and oddly enough I felt none for him. But I guess I never _really _hated him to begin with.

"_You might think they look like brothers_

_I think they look like they could be friends"_

Percy was right about that.


	4. Memory

_Memory_

_Three first year boys moved together on the Hogwarts express. One of them told the other two, "This compartment's empty, let's take it." The other two followed him and they all sat down, he was by himself. He introduced himself, "I'm Marcus Flint, who are you two?"_

_One of the boys had dark brown eyes like Marcus, but slightly lighter in comparison. He also possessed dark brown hair like Marcus, but that was also lighter in comparison. He extended his hand to Marcus, "I'm Oliver Wood."_

_Marcus took it, "Nice to meet you."_

_Then the train started up with a lurch that sent them both flying back, breaking the hand shake. Once all three of them were settled, the boy with the red curly hair, glasses, and blue eyes said to them both, "My name is Percy Weasley."_

_He talked with an air that suggested he came from a wealthy family, but Marcus knew better. He knew the Weasleys were poor and considered "blood traitors" amongst the "pure bloods", but he held no personal hatred for Percy. In fact, as he watched the other two boys shake hands he desired to become their friend. That wouldn't happen if he was placed in Slytherin, but even if he wasn't he knew what his family was like and they would stop it any way they could. Legal or non-legal._

_Percy extended his hand to Marcus, who shook it; decided that he would enjoy the time he had on the train with them because after they were sorted things would never be the same._

_Oliver asked nervously, "Which house do you think you'll be in?"_

_Percy spoke first, unrattled by it, "I think the Sorting Hat will place me in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor."_

_"I just hope I'm not in Slytherin." Oliver confessed._

_Marcus said sadly, "Me too," He didn't notice, but Percy eyed him knowingly through his glasses. Marcus came over to the other side and sat next to Oliver, he said to console him as he gripped his upper arm, "I don't think you'll end up in Slytherin."_

_"Really?" Percy heard Oliver ask, a thoughtfully grim expression set on his face as he listened._

_"Yeah," he listened to Marcus saying, "you seem nice enough for Hufflepuff or maybe you'll end up in Ravenclaw with Percy." All the boys looked at each other, "You two seem smart, you could get in there." Then he decided, "I think you'll both get into Gryffindor."_

_"Maybe we'll be in it together," Wood suggested, "and even if we aren't we can still be friends. There's nothing against befriending kids in other houses."_

_"No." Marcus forced a smile._

_Percy told Marcus, "You belong in Hufflepuff. You show great loyalty."_

_"You've only just met me." he said a little sadly._

_"You comforted," he locked eyes with Oliver a moment as he said his name, "Oliver when he was nervous. That's loyalty." _

_Marcus smiled a little, "You're observant, you must be smart." His smile grew, "You are going to be in Ravenclaw."_

_Percy smiled back, not holding any personal grudges against Marcus despite what he had figured out about him._

_Oliver joked, "Are we going to be complimenting each other the whole ride, we sound like a bunch of girls."_

_The boys laughed together. Marcus said in a feax-feminine voice, pointing at Oliver's black uniform shoes, "You're shoes are so cute!"_

_Oliver imitated the same voice, grinning at Marcus, "No, your shirt is so cute." Then they fell out of the joke, Oliver commented, "Actually, that is a nice shirt."_

_They looked to Percy as he spoke, "The school chose a good uniform; I've seen the other schools in the United Kingdom and they weren't that good." _

_The glass door slid open and they looked to see an old woman who asked, "Anything off the trolley's, dears?"_

_Oliver and Percy shrugged at each other after they searched their pockets. Marcus took out some of his money and bought all types of treats for his new friends, who sat there amazed. The woman left them and Marcus set everything on his side of the compartment. He told his friends, "You can have anything you like." They took the treats happily and thanked him. The treats couldn't possibly make up for all the malicious things he would later do to them, but it was the least he could do for them._

_Percy said, "It was nice of you to buy these, you should have some."_

"_Try the licorice wands." Oliver suggested._

_Marcus observed them sadly, his eyes dropping, "No, they're for you."_

"_You should have something, you bought them." he heard Oliver say._

_Percy told him, "You're our friend; it would be rude of us to deny you of what you bought."_

_Marcus looked up at them, feeling a smile pull at his lips, "Do you really consider me your friend?"_

"_Yes." Oliver told him; shocked that he didn't know._

"_Yes." Percy said; not shocked at all._

_Marcus smiled brightly at them. He said fondly, "I love you guys."_

"_So do we." the other boys said together, grinning._

_Marcus came over to their side and they all continued to be sent in to fits of laughter and talk about anything that came to their minds. _

_After awhile Percy pulled out a camera, saying, "I think I'll document this moment. One for each of us."_

_The boys through there arms around each others shoulders and Percy snapped three pictures for all of them to have. The pictures showed them having fun and enjoying each others company._

_The train eventually arrived at Hogwarts, Marcus felt a sickly feeling wash over him as he stepped off it and looked up at the school. Percy came to his side, gripping his shoulder, "You can always change houses." Marcus was shocked. _

_Percy knew._

_Oliver gripped his other shoulder, telling them both, "It doesn't matter if we're not in the same house, we can still be friends."_

"_It'd be nice if we were together." Percy told him solemnly._

"_Yeah," Marcus agreed._

_It would be." Oliver nodded._

_Hagrid called all the first years over to him and they went over to him and into the boats. In the boats the three of them all gazed up at the school. To Oliver, it looked like a palace. To Percy, it just looked like a school. To Marcus, it looked like a prison._

_The sorting was going smoothly; no one had been placed in Slytherin yet. Marcus's name was called, he felt his friends grip his shoulders comfortingly. He pulled away from them reluctantly and sat on the wooden stool. He felt like it was Judgement Day, but he decided it was much different because God is not a hat and is fair in His judgment. The hat, as his father had told him, had a charm on it to place students where they wanted to go. Marcus wanted to be in Gryffindor, but as he gazed at his friends he realized that being friends with them could put them all in danger. He had planned to askthe hat to place him in Gryffindor, but that was when he thought of only himself for a quick moment. It all rushed back to him, that his family would hurt any friends who weren't "pure-blood"; he couldn't be sure if it would be physically or not, but that it would be horrible. There was only one thing he could do._

_"SLYTHERIN!" the hat bellowed through the hall, where some gasps leaked out of students. The Slytherin table cheered loudly._

_Professor McGonagall took the hat off his head and he locked eyes with Percy and Oliver. All three of them looked distraught, but then Marcus looked away and went over to the Slytherin table. _

_They all realized nothing was going to be the same._


	5. Percy

_**Percy**_

I woke up surrounded by the grey atmosphere of the school infirmary. Usually, this depressed me, but today I was thankful for the calm I felt envelope me as opposed to the panic that had gripped me in the class room.

"I'm glad to see you're awake, Percy." I heard a soothing Irish accent say.

I turned my head, locking eyes with a young man possessing gentle brown eyes and curly brown hair sitting on a brown chair over at the wall. "Professor Moore-"

"Brian." he corrected. "No one else is here, we're alone."

Loud cheering came from out side the slightly high window that had been left opened, we both turned to it.

"Is that from Quidditch?" I asked, looking back at him.

He was still looking at the window, "It is. They've been doing that alot…." He chose to look at me, "I'm surprised it didn't awaken you."

"How long was I out?" I asked him.

"You missed lunch," another fit of cheering turned our attention back to the window, "….and Quidditch."

We locked eyes again simultaneously; listened to the cheering outside with out a word passing between us.

"Did you bring me here?" I asked.

"Yes," he told me, "and Oliver. He was deeply worried about you." He added, "So was most of the class."

"Oh," I said.

Most teachers in the school would have lied to me and said the entire class had been worried for me, but Brian wasn't like most teachers. He was two years older than I was and hadn't yet embraced the lie most of the staff lived by: that the school was mostly a united front and _all_ of the houses intermingled with each other.

_When I was in my third year, I had a free class before lunch and decided it would be best to go to the Great Hall and study there. I passed through the great golden doors expecting to see the room empty, but instead I noticed a fifth year Hufflepuff standing to the side as he gazed outside one of the giant stained-glass windows. It was September so the windows had been left opened._

_I went over to the Gryffindor table to drop off my things and looked over at him again. Something about the way his eyes looked out the window, made me walk over to him. His built was tall and lean, the same built Oliver, Marcus Flint, and I have always shared. Those two brown eyes of his held a constant trace of sadness in them, like he truly felt the pain of everyone in the world._

_When I came up to him, my eyes fell on his Prefect's badge. He pulled his eyes away from the window, "Do you wish to be one?" he asked in a soothing Irish accent._

_I looked up from his badge, meeting his wise gaze. I first thought it was odd that he was in Hufflepuff; he had an intellectual air about him that made him seem older than he actually was. It was very difficult to believe he was so young, it seemed like he had a lifetime of wisdom stored in his mind._

"_What?" I asked, not comprehending anything at the moment._

"_Would you like to be a Prefect when you're older?" he asked in an understanding voice as opposed to the way someone else might have just yelled at me for acting so utterly clueless to such a simple question._

_"Yes." I told him gravely, "It's my dream."_

_"Then, I wish you well in achieving your dream." he said, sincerity thick in his voice and eyes._

_"Thank you." I said in a serious tone of voice._

_"I'm Brian Moore, fifth year." he said, extending his hand to me._

_I shook his hand, "I'm Percy Weasley, third year."_

_"You're Bill and Charlie's brother." he recognized._

_"Are you friends?" I asked, wondering why I hadn't met him before if he was._

_"No," Brian said, "but al Prefects get to know each other over time."_

_"Even the ones in Slytherin?" I asked skeptically._

_Brian observed me with somewhat of a worried expression set on his face, his eyes looked at the window again. "Come stand by me." he said._

_I went to his side, he pointed over at the quidditch pitch, "Do you see all the teams practicing over there?"_

_"Yes." I informed him, watching them all practice._

_"What do you think they all have in common, Percy?" he asked wisely._

_"They all play Quidditch?" I looked to him and he looked back._

_"Think of something else, what else do they have in common?" he instructed me._

_I thought a moment, but came up with nothing, "I don't know."_

_He looked back out the window so I joined him in staring at the players whip around the air like darts, "You asked if the Slytherin Prefects got to know the other Prefects as well as the other houses? They do, but they make enemies out of us. Most people don't trust that house, do they? I think it's the serpent; the Devil took the form of one in the Bible. They should change what animal represents Slytherin house; maybe then everyone wouldn't treat them like servants of the Devil."_

_The grave way he spoke was chilling, but in a way that kept me listening._

_His words softened a little, "You were right when you said they all play Quidditch, but it's deeper than that. They're all separated by the houses they belong to, but Quidditch is something they all share. They can relate over it. They know what it's like to be on the team, they all share in the hardships that come with being players. No matter how much they want to hate each other, they form an unbreakable bond by having the same roles. It's like how people of the same gender who are enemies relate to each other. Power can do the same thing; people who have the share the same power can understand each other. _

"_That's what it's like for the prefects, we share the same role so we have a bond. We may not be friends, but we can understand each other. The Slytherin Prefects act that way with us; they recognize us as a source of power that we share with them. Jesus said to love your enemies. This school divides us in ways that makes it easy to make enemies out of each other. People argue so much over which house is greater; they forget we're a whole. Jesus also said anything divided won't stay together. This school became divided along time ago, when You-Know-Who became a member of Slytherin house. Hogwarts is breaking, Percy, and if we don't fix it the school will eventually fall before us."_

_I struggled to fight away the sensation to cry, "My friend, Oliver Wood, is on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Another boy, Marcus Flint, plays on the Slytherin team. They're enemies." We locked eyes, "Do you think they relate over that?"_

_Brian looked like he felt sorry for me; I must have looked anxious, I felt anxious. Hesaid, "Yes, I think they can."_

_My heart felt slightly calmed by his words, "What about the different houses? What could anyone in this school do about that?"_

_"Students in different houses could sit together at each others tables." he told me._

_"Would you do that?" I asked him, half-knowing the answer._

_"I don't really have anyone to sit with." he confessed. "I don't have any close friends here."_

_I was sad for him, but I wasn't surprised. He observed the school with a kind of wisdom that made him seem adult; Brian knew things that people don't usually figure out until they're out of school, things most of the school didn't want to realize. As for me, I was glad to have found someone to make me realize these things._

_"You're smart; I'm surprised you're not in Ravenclaw." I didn't think about what'd I say after what'd he told me, I just heard my self say it._

_He gave a small laugh, slipping quickly into a smile, "I'm not very intelligent, but thank you. Keep in mind that not everyone who's smart is in Ravenclaw." He commented truthfully, "You look intelligent, not just because of your glasses, and you're not in Ravenclaw you're in Gryffindor."_

_"We're supposed to be brave." I said sadly. "I'm not brave."_

_"Bravery can be found in all of us, Percy." Brian stressed. "Just because you feel fear doesn't make you're a coward. What makes a person a coward is when they choose not to fight and let evil win, but when they choose to fight that shows how brave you are. It doesn't mean you're not scared, it means you fight your fear because you don't want evil to win. That there is what real bravery is. It's going against the set rules to act the way God intended us to."_

_"Yeah," I agreed. I thought he was amazing. I still do._

_We stayed with him until lunch; looking at the Quidditch teams practice, his words running through my young mind. I never studied my school work, but I learned a greater lesson from Brian. Much greater than anything I've ever learned in a class room._

_Lunch was full of good food that day, but I couldn't make myself eat any of it. My mind was troubled; it took away my desire to eat. I examined each of the tables._

_Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were next to each other in the middle. Gryffindor was full of people who wanted to have fun and enjoy life. There happy-go-lucky attitudes were what hinted at bravery. Many of them talked about what kinds of danger they'd march themselves into. And how they'd come out victorious every time._

_Ravenclaw was made up of students who looked like they'd be great scholars we could all say we went to school with one day. Each and everyone of them seemed to have a special trait about them, something that made them different from the rest of us._

_I glanced over my shoulder, at the Slytherin table. I felt the need to not trust most of them, they were said to all be bad. However, I saw that most of them appeared to act just like any other student in the school; I never realized how similar they were to us before. They're house is supposed to represent ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness; that means they would have to be intelligent, but Ravenclaw is seen as good for that. I saw that only so many faces in that house looked completely untrustworthy. It was the same in every house. _

_My eyes settled on Marcus Flint as he ate solemnly, it didn't look like he connected with the other people in his house. He didn't want to be in that house, but he did at the same time. I didn't know why, but I'd known since the first day I met him he was going to be in Slytherin and that he wasn't going to fight against it even though he would have been much happier in another house. He had wanted to be our friend that day Oliver and I met him and we had wanted him as our friend. Marcus Flint became our enemy, mostly a personal enemy to Oliver. He could have just treated Oliver as another Gryffindor Quidditch team player, but he chose to target him as much as possible. Maybe he wanted to be close to him and this was how he could do it. Whenever he saw me, he never failed to ridicule me. The day he was sorted into Slytherin, he looked like his whole world had shattered, it felt like mine had. Oliver and I knew he wasn't going to stay our friend, he must have known the same thing. The three of us never talked about it, but slid into our new roles as if what had happened on the train wasn't real. Just a dream, a dream we could never have; the only proof of its existence was the pictures I'd taken, but I didn't know if either of them still had theirs. The two of them always seem to struggle with something, something they both shared in. _

_Brian might be right. The fact that they were both Quidditch players (and later Captains) might have made a link between them, something that made an inevitable bond between them. Maybe power really did make for that sort of thing to happen._

_I looked over at the Hufflepuff table, next to Ravenclaw's. They were known to be tolerant, just, and loyal. Most people thought that was just to mask the fact they were the weakest house. Brian proved that wrong. He wasn't weak. Neither were any of the people I watched. It made more sense to fill yourself with their ideas than the slight vanity of the other houses. Brian inspired me. They all did. He showed me what he thought of the school, that we should all unite ourselves as one school. Perhaps, it isn't Ravenclaw who is the smartest house or Slytherin. Maybe Gryffindor is not the bravest. Maybe neither of these houses is the greatest at anything. Maybe it's Hufflepuff that out shines them all. _

_Maybe, if we all united, each house would be as great as it claimed to be._

_I looked to the Staff table, the people supposedly meant to encourage us all to unite as one school. I quickly took in to consideration that less than a handful of the staff actually practiced or believed in doing it. My eyes settled on Headmaster Dumbledore as he conversed with Professor McGonagall. He always seemed wrapped up in the idea that the school could unite together, that it must unite together. Most people, even those who respected him, thought he was delusional. Before I'd spoken with Brian, I had felt the same way. Now, I understood that his idea was truly brilliant and he was truly brilliant as well._

_Then my eyes moved over to tall man dressed in black, with vampire white skin, dark eyes, and greasy short black hair parted on his right side. Professor Snape observed his surroundings coolly as he always did. It was a popular theory amongst the students that he was still working for You-Know-Who; he was probably one of the most unlikely people to encourage us all to unite as a school. He himself never hid his favoritism for Slytherin. Never. _

_The only other person as mean, hated, and feared was the man wearing glasses with pushed back brown hair, standing off to the side. Mr. Filch stood there with a cold bitter look as he held Mrs. Norris, who was living an unusually long life for a cat. He was just as likely as Professor Snape to encourage anyone to unite together. Mr. Filch seemed to have no companions aside from Mrs. Norris, not that he ever tried to make friends with anyone. In that moment I wondered to my self why he was so bitter; it could have been because he was a squib. Maybe he envied us, not hated us._

_Then I saw Mr. Filch look to his side; I followed him as he walked over to Professor Snape and sat down beside him. I had this strange urge to smile as I watched them interact together, but I kept it locked up the best I could._

_With that, I got up from the table and started walking. I had my eyes set on the Hufflepuff table, usually it seemed so close but today it seemed miles away. My body was trembling; my heart beat a little faster. I came up to the table, asking Brian, "May I sit here?"_

_Some of the other Hufflepuffs looked over. Brian smiled, very pleased, "Yes." and I sat down._

_Oliver came over next, "May I join you?"_

_I looked to Brian, he nodded at Oliver, "You may sit down."_

_Oliver sat down beside me and the three of us started conversing together, striking up a lasting friendship._

Brian and I pulled our bodies up, gripping the ledge of the slightly high window so we could see out it at the Quidditch match.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming of as you slept, you started looking troubled every so often. I tried to comfort you, but it didn't do any good." Brian said.

I told him as I watched the game, "I was dreaming about when I first came to Hogwarts."

"So you were anxious, is that why you look troubled as you slept?" he asked.

I had tried to keep it out of my mind since that day in third year. It was difficult to talk about that kind of loss, even to a close friend. I said difficultly, "Oliver and I drifted apart from one of our friends that day."

"Why is that?" Brian asked

"We were sorted into different houses." I told him, holding back tears. Back in my third year it hadn't made me want to cry. But on the day it occurred, I had cried.

_When night came, Oliver and I sat together on the window ledge. We looked out to the grounds, drenched in the light of the full moon with out a word. We looked away from the moon to stare at each other, silent tears trickling down both our faces._

"_Marcus is all alone." Oliver told me._

_I felt myself begin to shake, "He knew he'd be alone."_

_I opened my arms up and Oliver slid over to me. We sat there, hugging and trying to muffle our sobs, for some time before we both slipped back into our own beds. Sleep was lost to us, just as well since it probably would have been plagued with nightmares. For the whole night we listened to all the little sounds that happen when the day has ended, locking eyes the entire time. _

_Oliver had this look of trauma set on his face. My guess is that I looked very much the same to him. Oliver's eyes always held traces of constant fear in them after that night._

Brian confessed bitterly, "I never liked the idea of the Sorting Hat. It makes people nervous when they get here and makes us choose which way we'd like to be divided."

I was just as bitter in my decision, "There's too much dividing around here."

"Yeah, there is." Brian agreed angrily about it.

We watched as the Slytherin and Gryffindor players soared about the field together. Against each other. I felt a painful ache grow in my heart that made my heart feel like everything had been taken out of it, while only air kept it in its shape.

"Percy!" a shocked voice came from behind us.

We jumped down from where we were, landing side by side as we faced a lovely Ravenclaw Prefect with blue eyes behind glasses and long soft blonde ringlets in a polished low ponytail.

She began shaking as she looked at me, silent tears streaming down her face, "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I didn't know what had happened until some people told me at the Quidditch match." She broke out into a fit of uncontrollable sobs, masking her face with her hands.

I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her, "Penelope, I'm alright."

"They said you were dying!" she cried out. "I thought I was going to lose you!"

Brian showed up in my way of vision, giving me an apologetic smile about the rumors circulating about me. "I'll leave you two alone." he said and then walked out of the infirmary, leaving me to do my best consoling my girlfriend.

* * *

We walked the halls together until Penelope saw some first year Ravenclaws misbehaving and left me to go scold them. I was going to assist her, but she said I should show up and let everyone know I wasn't dying.

When I walked down the grand stair case, near the Great Hall and the Dungeons, I came across Hermione Granger. Her drawn face brightened at the sight of me.

"Percy, you're alright!" she cried, running up and gently embracing me.

She looked up at me, I gave her a smile, "I had only fainted, Hermione."

Hermione stepped back and told me, "There was a rumor going around that you were nearly dead. Ron and Ginny tried to calm everyone down, but Fred and George kept saying it was true. I had to come see for my self if you were alright."

I smiled again, this time on my own, "It's nice to know that you care, Hermione, but you obviously missed the Quidditch match for nothing."

"It wasn't any trouble." she reassured me. We walked down the stairs together to the Quidditch match.

Hermione's always had a crush on me ever since the day we met. She's pretty, even when she's been crying and looks so tired, but a little young for me.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Oliver**_

I felt sick in my stomach, like all my intestines were wrapping around them selves. It was normal for me to feel nervous in a Quidditch match, but not like this. I was still worried about Percy; I couldn't find him in the stands and was too high in the air to see clearly if he was even there. The day was cloudy and gray, as if the earth was sick along with me.

Lee Jordan's voice was bellowing through the air, his words blurred together for me and so did everything else.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Marcus**_

'_He's going to fall.' _I thought in a panic as I saw Oliver looking down, swaying slightly on his broom. We were so high up that if he fell, and no one helped him, he would surely die. My heart ached at the thought of loosing him; I grieved for him already and had to keep my eyes from crying.

I wasn't really far away from him, but a good enough distance away for my flying over to him to cause a disturbance. But I couldn't let him die. Why weren't his team mates paying attention? I had to fly over to him; hopefully Lee Jordan didn't say anything about it.

I flew over to him carefully, trying to make it look like I was only circling the field in search of the Snitch. Lee Jordan didn't report on it, everything was going well. I was coming closer to Oliver, but then I realized I didn't know how I would save him while not making it look intentional.

I grabbed the hood of his cloak, pulling him forward in a quick snap. "Are you trying to make winning easy for me, Wood?!"

"….SOME SERIOUS LACK OF SPORTSMAN SHIP FROM THAT WASTE OF LIFE MARCUS FLINT….Well he is, Professor McGonagall."

I tried to ignore him, but his words wouldn't leave my head. I had to focus on Oliver; I had to keep him alive. He still wasn't reacting to anything.

I pulled him back with a quick snap again, "You can't play if you're dead!"

Oliver looked at me, realizing what he had nearly done. His eyes looked thankful for a moment, almost adoringly at me. And for a moment, my eyes looked the same way at him.

I could still here Lee Jordan reporting what I did to the mostly jeering crowd. Fear rushed through my veins, making me realize we had an audience.

I forced myself to look mean, "I can't believe they'd let someone like you on the team, can't even stay on your broom."

Oliver retorted, "I'm a better player than you are!"

"Sorry, Wood, they don't give a medal for who gets hit by the most bludgers." I heard my self say. A hint of sadness showed up in Oliver's eyes, it sliced my heart like it always did.

Before Oliver could tell me off, we both caught sight of the Snitch and plunged as it soared to the ground. It led us into the part underneath where students sat for games. We both had a difficult time of moving around the beams set up at different angles, but we managed not to hurt our selves.

The glimmer of gold that the Snitch gave off distracted me; I put all my focus on it. In a flash I realized how close to a beam I was, I couldn't think to duck my head.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Oliver**_

I pressed my hand against the back of Marcus's head and pressed it down to keep it from colliding with one of the beams. I didn't even have to think about it, I realized as I pulled my hand away. After he'd saved me from falling off my broom, I couldn't let him get hurt. He could have died with the force he was moving. The thought of Marcus dying felt like a stab at my heart. I had to force the thought out of my head to keep the ache it gave my heart from making me cry.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Marcus**_

I couldn't belief he saved me. After all the things I'd said or done to him, he had saved me. _'Percy's lucky to have him as a friend.'_ That gave me a pain in my heart as I remembered I had once had him as a friend and Percy as a friend. I had tried to block that out of my mind since first year, but I still wanted to be their friends. I felt the will to cry threaten me again, but I brushed it off and focused on the Snitch. I willed myself to stop thinking about the past; there was no fixing what I'd done.

We both reached for the Snitch. I almost let Oliver have it, but then I didn't and we both leaned forward, which led us crashing out of the underneath of the bleachers. As I was later told, we both ended up on the ground, each of us holding one wing of the Snitch.

* * *

My eyes opened to the infirmary; I turned my head and saw my broom leaning against the wall, undamaged or fixed. I looked up at the ceiling, breathing a sigh of relief. I pushed my self up. Over at the bed across from me, Percy turned his head and met my eyes. He was sitting near Oliver's head. Unlike Oliver, no one was by my bed to worry and watch over me. I was relieved Percy was alright and worried that Oliver was not, but I tried to hide how I felt. But Percy's knowingly cold eyes made it hard for me to act my role as his enemy. It made me anxious, but oddly relieved.

"Who won, Weasley?" I asked, trying to sound like I hated him.

"Percy," he snapped angrily, "my name is Percy."

We stared at each other silently. How was I supposed to react that?

Percy talked to me in somewhat of a cold voice, "I saw you save him." He forced out his next words, like he was confused by them, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." it slipped out in a kind voice before I could pull it back. I waited for Percy's response in a panic.

Percy regarded me with a knowing look. Percy who had always known my predicament. Percy who had been my friend any way. Percy who had tried to help me break away from Slytherin. Percy who sat there across the room, staring at me with that knowing look he had given me back when we first met on the train.

What did he think of me after all these years?


	10. Chapter 10

_**Percy**_

His words had sounded kind; Marcus had said "you're welcome". Now, I knew he really had saved Oliver. It gave me an odd feeling in my heart; there was a warm feeling filling it, but also a nostalgic longing for us (all three of us) to be friends again. And I wanted Marcus and Oliver to loose the constant trace of fear both of their eyes held.

_Once, when my grandfather, my mother's father, came to visit I found him resting in a dark red arm chair, reading silently. I walked over to him curiously and allowed my eyes to take in the page he was looking over._

_At age seven, I understood more than some children a few years older than me ever did, but what was written in the book puzzled me. It talked about one of the characters finding someone else's sadness to be beautiful. _

"_How can sadness be beautiful?" I thought out loud._

_I locked eyes with my grandfather, "I can explain it to you, if you'll stay and listen."_

"_I'll stay." I said._

_A loving smile showed up on his face, he touched the side of my head affectionately, "You are a good boy, Percy, always willing to learn." I smiled shyly and he pulled his away after a moment._

_I asked again, "So, how can sadness be beautiful?"_

_My grandfather cleared his throat and began, "The character in my book admired his friend's sadness because the sadness came from loving his friend and still wanting him as a friend even when he wished to go his separate ways."_

"_What happens to their friendship?" I asked._

_He said, "Well, I've read this book and at the end they become friends again."_

_I thought aloud, "So, the friend's sadness was rooted in love."_

"_Yes, Percy," My Grandfather told me. "Love is a tricky thing, romantic or not." He thought a moment, "I think love without lust is the most beautiful kind of love there is; that's why friendship is so important. Most people want love, Percy; they want to be loved by their friends, even men want that from each other."_

_I moved my brow in confusion. Even at such a young age, I had already learned that society frowned on men expressing how much they cared for other men. Women are aloud to show their love for each other and all of their emotions, but men are not allowed. Men are expected to be strong and keep their emotions bottled up and as for love, you may love your male relatives, but love outside your family is to be felt __only __toward women. _

_My grandfather observed a little sadly, "Society has trained you well, but it is wrong sometimes, Percy. You must do all you can to remember that. As you grow into a man you'll make many friends, but not all of them will accept you loving them. They will ridicule you for it, make jokes out of it, but they want it. Do not turn to them for love, Percy. Look for other boys who you can relax with and who will want to admit they love you when you also love them. Find them Percy, and never let them go; most likely they won't want to let you go either. Friendship and the love that comes with it is complicated when it's between men because that's how society makes it, but you must find it. You need it. Once you have it, you'll be very with it."_

"_Do you have that kind of love, Grandfather?" I asked. _

_He slipped into a smile, "Always so formal." He answered my other question, "I do have that type of love, Percy."_

"_That's nice." I said, truly meaning it._

_Later on, at my father's birthday dinner I looked over at my grandfather interact with my paternal grandfather. They were having a conversation while their wives conversed together. I saw my grandmothers sneak glances at my grandfathers so I deducted that their conversation was about their husbands._

_I directed my gaze back at my grandfathers and noticed that as they conversed they shared a smile and had a loving look in their eyes._

I wanted to have that kind of relationship, not only with Oliver, but with Marcus.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Marcus**_

"So, who won the game?" I asked, not even trying to make it sound like I even remotely disliked him.

"It counted for both of you when you caught the Snitch, both teams tied." Percy said.

"Oh," I responded.

We stared at each other in silence. I felt like my throat was being clogged by all the things I wanted to tell him.

I got up from the bed, walking away, "I'm leaving. If Madame Pomfrey asks where I am, tell her I left."

I barely got any further when Percy asked, "Why didn't you just switch houses?"

I stayed silent.

"Didn't we mean anything to you?!" he called, when I was in front of the doors.

I stopped.

I opened my mouth.

I closed it.

I couldn't give him my answer.

I walked out.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Oliver**_

My eyes opened to Percy's worried face slipping into a smile. I smiled back at him.

"Did we win?" I asked, sitting up.

Percy told me, "Both teams tied."

Confusion wrapped itself around me, "How did this happen, I was sure I had caught the Snitch."

"You were holding one of the wings," Percy said, "and so was Marcus."

"Flint," I corrected him, unable to stop the way I had trembled out the word. I was glad only Percy was in the room with me, because it allowed me to let my eyes shimmer with my uncried tears. Percy looked the same way.

"He saved you." Percy reminded me, his voice quivering.

Percy took my hand in his; I clutched it comfortingly and desperately. I had seen things like this happen to other members of the team, but I'd never experienced it for myself. Whenever someone nearly died in a game, their friends always felt the need to touch them when they found out they were alright. It was like they were checking if their friend was really alive and there.

I struggled not to cry, but not only because of the way Percy felt. I couldn't get Marcus out of my head, he had saved me and when he had I had loved him. I had allowed myself to smile at him and I saw him smile at me without any hatred. Maybe I was delirious. But I know that for one moment everything felt right, like how it had when Percy, Marcus, and I had been friends on the train.

"I love you, Percy." I said, trying so hard not to cry. Percy would have let me do it, but I was half-scared I wouldn't be able to stop.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Percy**_

"I love you, Oliver." our conversation brought more sadness than warmth to my heart.

Neither of us said anything, but we sat there and I could tell both of us were waiting for the same thing: a third "I love you" from someone who wasn't there and who probably wouldn't say if he was.

I had meant to delay my crying and had hoped the urge to cry would evanish, but my body felt heavy and I hunched over as I trembled with heavy sobs mixed with tears.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Oliver**_

I watched Percy break into a fit of crying, seeing my best friend like this made it more difficult for me not to cry. Then, I couldn't stop myself from remembering I had once had two best friends and that I could have had two best friends now. My emotions betrayed me and sent me into the same fit of crying Percy was in. I wrapped my arms around him and he did the same for me.

"What happened, Percy!" I asked in despair.

"I don't know." He said through sobs, "I tried to talk to him when he was here…he sounded nice, like he didn't hate me…I asked him if we meant anything to him…he wouldn't answer me…"

Percy was shaking; I tried to comfort him, but that was hard because I couldn't stop shaking either. Something seemed to be missing as we sat there and I had to try and get t back.

"Where is he?" I asked as we calmed down.

We pulled away, but still clutched one of each other's hands.

Percy said, "He walked out just a few moments ago. He couldn't have gotten far."

I let go of Percy's hand before I swung my legs around slowly and got up, "I'm going to find him."

Percy stood up, deciding, "I'm coming with you."

"Alright," I said, not feeling any need for an argument.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Percy**_

I followed Oliver through the halls with an odd feeling in my stomach; I likened it to being an actor performing live on a stage. There's the thrill of having one time to get your performance right with the also constant fear nawing at you that you could mess up without the option of re-doing the scene.

Oliver moved with the allusion that he was completely confident in our endeavor, but I knew better. Back when we had all met I was able to easily conclude that Marcus and Oliver had a desire for friendship much stronger than I did.

They _needed_ me. They _needed_ each other.

I had grownup with a great deal of siblings to play with, but Marcus and Oliver didn't have that. Oliver has confessed to me of having never played with too many children, most of the relatives he's close in age with were teenagers when he was a child. As for Marcus, I never learned as much about his childhood; but he mentioned having only been around children if they were family members or children of family friends. He never said so, but I think he had a difficult time relating to them. Probably, they were the kind of people who wished to be in Slytherin and who frowned upon anything Muggle related.

It's an unnecessary problem in the Wizarding world that wizard children don't make friends before they reach age eleven and go off to Hogwarts. I always thought this problem could be avoided if there was elementary school learning for Wizarding children like there is in the Muggle world. Or parents could take the time to introduce their children to other suitable children to befriend.

Since I had so many siblings to keep me company, I don't think I ever felt as much pain as Oliver. For years he'd been trying to bottle it up, but I guess us being seventh years made him realize there wouldn't be too many opportunities left to mend our old friendship with Marcus. I think Marcus felt it as well; I had always noticed a sensitivity in his eyes that looked to strong for someone with his reputation. I'd known all these years that his malicious ways were just an act. I always thought deserved an award for how well he could act.

I never forgot what was really underneath the way we all acted with each other. I never let myself forget. Oliver tried to forget and so did Marcus to not feel the pain, but I bared that pain like it was my life. And I did make it my life.

We eventually saw Marcus walking in the courtyard, still in his dark green Quidditch robe. He had his back to us. I must admit that I had felt angry with him in the infirmary, but now I felt distraught. Even my previous anger had been laced with pain. It just bothered me that after all these years he had done nothing to reconcile his friendship with me an Oliver.

I had a feeling that today we might come closer to that actually happening or that we might slip farther away from that dream. My dream.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Oliver**_

"Flint!" I called out, not angrily but just to get his attention. I felt my stomach turn nervously in my stomach as Percy and I ran into the courtyard. I had no idea what I'd say to him. I'm not sure Percy did either.

What do you say to someone you're supposed to feel hatred for when you don't?


	17. Chapter 17

_**Marcus**_

I turned around. I don't know why I did, but I know that when I saw Percy and Oliver I had to fight to a fond smile for them. I hadn't had to do that since first year, over time I just got used to scowling at them both. But today I couldn't force a scowl on my face; my mouth felt heavy and was pulling in a frown.

"What is it?" I heard myself ask, it didn't sound full of hatred and I chose not to cover for it. It just didn't seem worth it. Not today. Not with them. It just wasn't worth it.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Oliver**_

Does it make sense to love someone who's been your enemy for a long time? I couldn't help but have that question rippling through my mind as I looked at Marcus.

I loved him. I'd loved Marcus like I did Percy, ever since we'd all met on the train. But it was painful to love Marcus. For all the years we'd been in school, we'd been enemies. I never liked it and I never wanted it. All I'd ever wanted was for the three of us to be friends again, just like how it was on the train.

"What is it?" Marcus asked me again. His eyes studied me and looked…..caring? Did he still care about me? Did he still care about Percy? Did he know we cared about him, that we had always cared about him? Maybe, he still did care about us. Maybe….

"I don't think you're a waste of life like Lee Jordan said in the game." I let out; I didn't know what else to say. What do you say about this kind of thing?


	19. Chapter 19

_**Marcus**_

Oliver's words warmed my heart, but they had sliced through it to give me that warmth. What was I supposed to say to him after that?

"Why?" I asked. I needed to know. I needed to know how he could possibly think that after all these years. His eyes looked sad, like he couldn't believe I didn't know.

"You saved me." He said a little sadly. "I would have fell if you hadn't been there. I could have died if you didn't saving me."

My mouth felt heavier, but I forced it into a line. "You would have been saved by someone else if not me, Wood." I said.

He told me after a moment, "Thank you, Flint."

Oliver seemed to struggle saying the words. He acted like someone who had just said something when they meant to say something else; but he knew what he said was right. It was just odd for us. It'd been a long time since we'd all been like this, not faking any hatred for each other.

"You're welcome." I said, feeling just like Oliver seemed to feel.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Oliver**_

Surprisingly, I didn't expect Marcus to insult me like he usually did. Nothing had been usual about this day. I think it was Percy fainting that set us off and everything into place, but I guess all these years pretending to be enemies were leading up to it as well. You can't hide how you feel; I don't think it's healthy anyway. Right now, the three of us could patch things up and go right along as friends, just like we were on the train. Everything could be different and we wouldn't have to hide our pain or how we really felt. If I could say something, maybe I could change things.

What would I say? Should I remind them of when we first met? I don't think Percy needed much convincing, he seemed just as ready as I was to take Marcus back as our friend. But I think there was some resentment there. I had it as well. That always made it easier to see Marcus as an enemy. I just didn't understand why he wouldn't fight to get our friendship back. But it's not like we ever did either. Maybe we were all at fault.

But I wanted everything to be ok; I had hope for it as I looked into Marcus's eyes. The first time I met him, I immediately saw him like an older brother. He had comforted me when he was probably more nervous about which house he'd be in, I realized as I looked in his eyes that he must have know he wasn't going to be with us. That's why he was so nice to us; that's why he bought and offered Percy and me all those treats….

I had an urge to hug him, I wanted to thank him and tell him everything would be alright. But everything wouldn't be alright. Even if we all patched things up between us, there was still the rest of the school, Marcus's family, and the whole Wizarding world to fight against.

Was this all we were aloud to have?


	21. Chapter 21

_**Marcus**_

There are moments people have and don't want to end, moment they always try to re-live and re-call. This was my moment, I was sure of it. Finally, after all these years, the three of us had a chance to be together and not have to put up that ridiculous act of being enemies. But it wasn't perfect.

If it was, I could have smiled with them and laughed with them and hugged them. I also could have told them all I'd wanted to tell them since first year. And I wouldn't have to struggle not to frown.

But as I looked into Oliver's eyes, all I saw was the same amount of despair and sadness that I felt. He could probably see that in my eyes, but I didn't try to hide it; I don't think I could have, I didn't have it in me at the moment. I was to busy trying really hard not to let my struggling frown not turn into me crying.

I avoided Percy's eyes; they held this knowing look in them that made me uncomfortable. Percy knew how both of us felt; he'd been smart enough to figure out how I felt on the train, so I was sure that he knew how Oliver who he'd been friends with all these years) and I felt. Percy really did belong in Ravenclaw.

But he had the courage of Gryffindor. I wished he'd use it to say something, make us acknowledge what we'd done over the years. Maybe, he wanted us to do it on our own. Maybe, he was just as scared to try and fix things; scared that he might fail, that we all might fail. I didn't know if any of us could take that; even Percy, who was definitely the strongest out of the three of us.

He always was the strongest and I think that was because he never bottled up how he felt. He never looked weak in the eyes when I insulted him, but constantly knowing; it was like he saw right through me. The way he talked to me in the infirmary seemed easier for him than it did for me or Oliver now. Percy really was the smartest.

I wanted to hug him and Oliver. I wanted to tell them I was sorry and tell them everything would be alright.

"You'd better go." I said. I might as well have told them I had given up because, in a way, I had. We weren't going to fix this.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Oliver**_

So, he had lost hope as well. I couldn't blame him for that, but part of me still wanted to try and fix what had happened. We all wanted it; just none of us would say anything. I'm surprised Percy didn't, but I guess I understand why he did. I think he wanted us, me and Marcus, to do this on our own. And maybe a part of him had also given up hope that we could fix what'd happened.

"Yeah," I agreed.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Marcus**_

I watched Oliver as he turned away, then my eyes settled on Percy. He stood there, letting his eyes linger on me angrily and sadly. It seemed to be that he was disappointed with both of us, maybe with himself; but mostly, he was disappointed in me.

It tore at my heart to see them go. I wanted them to stay, even if it was just so we could have this faked conversation while we never said what really felt. As they got closer to the hallway I was tempted to call after them. Maybe everything would have change if I did. I opened my mouth, prepared to call them back.

I closed it. I decided there was nothing I could do. Nothing, but watch them disappear into the hallway.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Oliver**_

_'Why didn't I say something to him? I should have said something to him.'_ I had asked myself. I had such a great ache in my heart as I did.

I should have said something then and I should have told him how I felt. Maybe, things could be like the way they were, when we were all friends. For all these years I had been Marcus's personal enemy and I he had been mine. There's a saying, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." I don't remember who said that, but I have to wonder if they only kept their enemies close because they loved them.

I loved Marcus. I loved him like I did Percy.

After all these years, after what he'd done to us, I still loved him. I don't think I ever stopped. I remember the look on his face when he was sorted into Slytherin; it was like his whole world had shattered. It was the same for me and Percy. Ever since first year I had kind of asked myself if he had really ever cared about us or if he had cared about us a lot. Percy had told him before we were all sorted that students could transfer into other houses, why didn't Marcus do that? He could have broken away from all Slytherin stood for; if it was a matter of how his family would react, I would have taken him in. I always wanted a brother. I thought I had found two on the train.

That's why I had made him a personal enemy. I wanted to be near him, I wanted to have some kind of relationship with him even if we couldn't be friends. And I know that's so pathetic, but maybe it's what he wanted as well.

And we could have fixed it….

After all these years of fighting my emotion and trying to hide from myself what I really wanted, I gave up. All the pain, anger, and regret I felt pushed against the inside of my skin and weighed me down like an anchor. I was on my knees, pressing myself against the wall. I shook as I cried, I'd never done that before, and it kind of scared me.

Percy dropped to his knees, asking me, "Oliver! Oliver, are you alright?"

"Why didn't you stop him?" I asked. "You knew!" I said angrily. "You knew and you didn't stop him! You knew he'd get into Slytherin! You knew he wouldn't change houses! How could you let this happen to us?!"

I could just make out Percy's face through my teary eyed vision. He looked sad and just as hurt as I felt. I pulled him into a hug, "I'm sorry, Percy."

"It's alright." he said.

"I still love him, Percy." I confessed. "I love him like I love you."

"I know." I could here his voice shake a little; he must have been crying, but not as much as me.

"We should have said something." I decided.

"Yeah," Percy agreed, "we should have."


	25. Chapter 25

_**Marcus**_

I stood there, gripping the statue I was next to hold me up. I felt so alone as I stood there, wishing I had said something or that I was brave enough to run after them now and tell them what I should have said. Everything could be different if I did, we all wanted it. Percy had wanted it. He could have said something. Oliver had wanted it. He could have said something. And I had wanted it. I should have said something.

I shouldn't have left them. I should have done what Percy suggested all those years ago and switched houses. I should have told the sorting hat I wanted to be in Gryffindor, but you have to brave to there and I'm not brave. If I were brave I could go against Slytherin, and I could go against my parents, and I could go against Voldemort.

But I'm a coward and I'll be coward all my life. I'll be alone all my life, and I'll die alone, and in my death I'll still be alone. I'll never anyone and I'll never be anyone. It's an awful thing to be alone. It's like it takes over and even if you're in a crowd of people it's like you walk in a different dimension than them, like they can't see you. And I find that when you're so alone like this, you notice things others don't. You see how others feel more, but then you also live in a fog. You can't see away out and you live in despair and a constant fear of time. Life is like death and death seems frighteningly close.

I don't see salvation for myself; I see a world of fire. And I deserve that fate, Jesus died on the cross for me and I can't even get up enough courage to not join everyone who agrees with Voldemort. Voldemort would probably kill me if I refused to join, but that's the worst he can ever do to me. When I was a little boy, the priest at my church said that the body was a shell for the soul and it was the soul we should worry about. He was killed by Death Eaters a month ago. They were trying to harass a group of muggle children; they wanted to kill them so they children wouldn't grow up into muggle adults. The priest, Father Clarke, as reported in the _Daily Prophet_ made a barrier around the children and when the Death Eaters asked him to take it down he said he would die before he let them kill those children. The Death Eaters then decided Father Clarke was a blood-traitor and that made him deserve to die. They all decided to try and kill him.

_I was right there when they did it. I had been brought along for Death Eater training, but I wasn't supposed to do anything but watch. I don't know what spell hit him, but I saw him collapse to the ground and I ran out from where I was hiding to go and hold him while the other Death Eaters tried to break his barrier. I always thought when someone was dying they'd be telling everyone they were scared and they wanted to live more. That's not what Father Clarke did. He grabbed desperately at my shirt and said, "Save them! Don't let them be killed!" _

_It broke my heart to know he thought I was on his side. "What about you?" I had asked._

"_Leave me." he said. "I'm dying. You need to save those children." _

"_I don't_...._" I began, but stopped._

"_Please, do it_...._" he begged._

"_Alright," I said without thinking._

_He smiled weakly, "God bless you, Marcus."_

_It was the second time anyone had ever blessed me and really meant it. "God bless you, Father Clarke." I had said back._

_He died then, in my arms, and I let go. Time seem to stop. I don't think he had to worry about his soul. He would live in his death._

_I heard the Death Eaters cheering and I looked up to see them prepare to kill the cowering children. They only looked to be seven and eight years old._

_I ran towards them, screaming, "Aurors! Aurors!" The others looked to me and I said, "There coming!" I pointed in the distance, "I just saw them turn themselves invisible over there!"_

_Someone decided we would all abandon the mission and apparate back to our homes. He would explain to Voldemort. _

_I was the last to apparate. I pointed my wand at the children and took away their memory of what just happened. I convinced them they had been playing outside and I had just found them. They believed me and asked that I walk them home. There were eight of them and they all lived on the same street. They said they didn't know how to get home. They didn't remember, but the Death Eaters had chased them here for fun._

_I said, "I'll find it." I could still remember where we'd all found them._

_They all smiled up at me, like I was some kind of hero. They all walked over to me and I unexplainably bent down. They wrapped their little arms around me and I hugged them back. It should have made me happy, but it made my heart fill with agony. It was dark so they couldn't see Father Clarke's dead body; but I looked over to where it was and realized these children hugging me was not my future, my future was thousands of corpses just like Father Clarke's. Bodies that had been the shells to good souls._

_We all got up and the children hung on to me as I walked them home. They were all so happy. They all had such nice souls._

I collapsed on the ground, unable hold myself up anymore.

Even if I had told Percy and Oliver how I felt, what would it have done? They wouldn't want to be my friend after I became a Death Eater and I couldn't be there friend if I was. All we had ever had was that time on the train. I knew then I couldn't be their friend in Slytherin and I still knew that now. As I cried on the statues cold service, I felt like all hope was lost for me. I wouldn't be a good man and I would never have Percy and Oliver as friends again. I would never have what I wanted.

After all these years of trying to deny it, I had to admit it to myself. I had to admit to myself why I made Oliver my personal enemy. I had to admit why I always mocked Percy when I had the chance. It wasn't because I hated them, I never hated them. I just wanted a way to be with them. What'd I'd felt for them on the train had never really left me despite how much I had tried to forget it.

Maybe they were dealing with the same emotions that I was somewhere, maybe they were crying. They were together, they were always together. That comforted me over the years, to know they weren't alone. But I was alone, I was always alone. And, as I had realized, I would always be alone. When I had talked with them, when ever I did, I felt less alone. I felt like I belonged somewhere, like my life actually had meaning. It always hurt me when I had to leave them or they left me, but today my heart ached like it never had before.

Why didn't they tell me how they felt?

Why didn't I tell them:

"I love you, Percy." "I love you, Oliver."


	26. Chapter 26

_**Percy**_

When night finally arrived it brought a full moon with it that I watched from the window ledge. I pulled my eyes away from it and looked at the picture I was holding. It was of me, Oliver, and Marcus on the train. We looked happy to be together.

Silent tears trickled down my cheeks. My heart ached so much as tears fell from my eyes, staining my clothes. I looked over at Oliver as he slept. I never knew if he kept his picture or if Marcus ever kept his own copy.

I had been so angry that neither of them had said anything today. I thought my poem, which had made the day more difficult, would do something, but it made it much more painful for all of us. It was my fault we all had to carry such pain over the years.

I looked back at the picture and realized what a fool I'd been. Everyone thinks I'm so intelligent, but if I was I would have said something and I would have stopped this from happening. Oliver was right to blame me, it was all fault. I should have made Marcus switch houses. It didn't matter which house, but as long as it wasn't Slytherin. I should have made him leave his family; my family's poor, but I could have taken him in.

I should have said something when were all in the courtyard. I could have fixed this. I was scared, but Gryffindor's about being brave. How did I even get in this house?

When Oliver had cried before, he had admitted to still loving Marcus. I never said it, but I still loved him as well. I always had and I still did. Even when he insulted me, I still loved Marcus. But it was very painful to endure, to love someone like Marcus. It's always hard to love someone, in any kind of love, if you can't be with them.

I looked at the picture a moment and then looked out the window, asking God in a whisper so the others could not here me, _"Please, help us."_


End file.
